


i never dreamed that i'd love somebody like you

by serenitysea



Series: the world was on fire [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, F/M, Heartbreak, Love, POV First Person, Steamy, major providence feels, season two, these feels are nothing we were ever trained for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-29
Updated: 2016-01-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 01:15:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5848150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenitysea/pseuds/serenitysea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>the harder you struggle to escape, the deeper you become embedded.</p><p>it’s horrible, the way you feel. the pull you have, after everything. </p><p><b>aka</b>:</p><p>the one where skye hates herself for missing him. (set early season 2)</p><p>(you know how we don't learn what skye's really thinking about ward for the entirety of season two? <i>yeah</i>. well now you know.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	i never dreamed that i'd love somebody like you

**Author's Note:**

> um, so apparently this has been living on my tumblr for more than a year and never made it over to ao3?
> 
> WHOOPS.

and here’s the thing:  
  
this _blows_.  
  
it’s not the fighting or the training or the learning.  
  
you’ve always loved learning. training, fighting — these are great for taking your mind off things and making it feel like you’re actually _accomplishing_ something. may is patient and methodical with her reasons for taking you through each step of what comes next and so it doesn’t come as a surprise to anyone when you receive a higher clearance level.  
  
(though you privately have to wonder what it even means, or if you have leapfrogged ahead because now the _entire world_ is level _6 7 8 9 10_ and you’re just a baby level 1 at the bottom of the triskeleon. …or at least you _were_ , before the entire world went to hell.)  
  
so you throw yourself into the training because it makes sense. because it’s the thing to do. because, honestly, what _else_ are you going to do? this is your _family_. these people, this ragtag group of broken and battered individuals who have struggled against the odds, against _death itself_ and still come out on top. there is nothing but a deep respect and honor to be fighting at their side.  
  
the question isn’t how could you – the question is: how could you _not_? how could you walk away from them?  
  
you couldn’t. you wouldn’t. you’d _never_.  
  
and the learning — well. you’ve always been curious, always devoured information like it was the best thing since carbs came into existence, always wanting more and reaching far beyond your reach. learning is like breathing. you can’t stop.  
  
and yet.  
  
there’s a part of you that sits locked up tight under layers of _learning_ and _fighting_. a part that hides behind gale force winds of anger that would level cities in its path. a part that you are trying desperately to _annihilate_.  
  
because it feels like _betrayal_ of the worst kind, to —  


(you don’t even want to admit it.)  


— miss him.  
  
  
how could you? this is not just betrayal, this is the lost identity of oneself. you are strong, and you are capable and you’ve never needed _anyone_ to define you, _ever_. it isn’t worth letting someone in that far, or pulling them close to you — they’re just going to leave anyway.  
  
( _we won’t turn our back_ —)  
  
( _right_. that lasted just long enough for a goodbye kiss.)  
  
the voice replaying in your head ( _which was a **very** nice kiss, i admit_ ) — who was playing who?  
  
he taught you that the best lies have some truth in them — and guess what?  
  
(he taught you nearly everything, after all.)  
  
here’s what nobody knows:

 _it was a damn good kiss_.  
  
not just because it was a kiss.  
  
but because of everything _attached_ to it.  
  
all the little strings ( _i am trying to protect you_ ) ( _you look better than when you were dying_ ) ( _i don’t regret what i’ve done not if it means you’re safe_ )  and they pull together tightly like a spiderweb made of iron fibers and quicksand.  
  
the harder you struggle to escape, the deeper you become embedded.  
  
it’s horrible, the way you feel. the _pull_ you have, after everything.  
  
how there is a part of you that wakes up in the middle of the night with an intimate slow burn low in your belly and red hot embers stoking the fire in your heart — and a name on your lips that you’d gladly accept torture before ever admitting.  
  
brown eyes that are constantly seeking and _possessing_ and stripping you clean until motives and methods are laid bare on a table for him to see.  
  
(it’s like he’s taken you apart and all your tiny pieces have scattered in the wind.)  
  
(it’s like until he relinquishes control of them, you’ll never get it back.)  
  
you hate it.  
  
you hate that it’s come down to this; that learning to defend yourself and punching true to guard your face and firing a gun to save a life (and take another) — that these are all _steeped_ in the embodiment of him.  
  
the faster you run, the harder you train, the more you bleed — it isn’t enough.  
  
it will _never_ be enough.  
  
this sin of loving him weighs dark and ugly on your soul like a stain that won’t come out. it bleeds black and infects every organ and blood cell until you’re drenched

  
  
(and it’s the middle of the night and you see him and there’s hands wandering and it _feels so damn good_ and there’s an ache and you just want _, you want, **you want**_ —)

  
  
— your mouth opens in a soundless cry and you’re arching forward until the fever pitch tremors fade and reality comes crashing down.  
  
you hate it.  
  
it’s killing you and you’re _wrecked_ and —  
  
it has to stop.  
  
has to.  
  
you can’t keep doing this to your family. you owe them _everything_. you won’t be weak.  
  
so you train a little harder. you run a little faster. you push limits farther than is strictly authorized. (protocol was made to be broken and you’ve had problems with people trying to box you in.) if there’s backlash, if people are talking about you, if anyone has cause for complaint — you shut it down.  
  
and you shut it down because you have to. because you won’t _tolerate_ anything less.  
  
because no one is allowed to hate you.  
  
except you.  
  
(this is the terrifying monster and _you’re never getting out_.)  
  
*  
  
_i never dreamed_

_that i’d love somebody_

_like you._

**Author's Note:**

> in the spirit of full disclosure, this is actually the first half of a two part series? the second part being ward's pov. 
> 
> I SHOULD REALLY GET AROUND TO WRITING THAT TBH.
> 
> \+ [tumblr](http://b-isforbombshell.tumblr.com).


End file.
